Payment Terms
by VictimOfCircumstance
Summary: Sometimes, dating a 17 year old can be fun. For Squall Leonhart, secretary to a millionaire CEO whose office his boyfriend just broke into, this is not one of those times. SA/SL.


**Warnings**: Foul language, has elements of a sexual nature

**Disclaimer**: FFVIII does not belong to me.

**Notes**: I like Cid Highwind better than Cid Kramer so this Cid Kramer is like a weird mutation of the two. If you're not familiar with FFVII, just accept that this Cid is a foul-mouthed nutcase and move on.

oooo

Squall frowned as he shifted the Trepe Corp meeting to a 1:30 slot on Google Calendar. That might work, but Cid would have to get from the Trepe Corp building back to Kramer Inc in ten minutes to be back for a brainstorming session at three, and that might be hard, given the shithole that was afternoon traffic. Still, it was the most convenient time he could manage. He'd just have to make sure Selphie was the driver for the day. The little nutjob always got Cid places on time, even if it wasn't always in the most legal of circumstances.

The phone by his left hand rang, and he answered it as he tried to find a more convenient schedule for Cid's afternoon. If fucking Quistis Trepe didn't have such a tight calendar herself, this would be a lot easier. "Yes sir?" He asked absently, glancing at the blinking light that meant it was coming from inside Cid's office.

Static. Then the decisive click as the person on the other end hung up.

He frowned, his attention shifting as he replaced the phone in its cradle. Cid couldn't possibly have dialed him by accident. Maybe he had realized he didn't need Squall after he'd already dialed? Whatever. He turned back to his work.

Then the phone rang again. He picked it up and asked warily, "Can I help you with something, Mr. Kramer?"

Again, Cid hung up.

Squall did the same, then walked back to knock on Cid's office door. He poked his head inside. "Did you need something?" He asked the back of his chair.

The chair swiveled around.

Oh fuck no.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Squall hissed, shutting the door behind him quickly.

Seifer laughed. "Dude, it is absurdly easy to break into your boss's office. You should fix that." He smirked at Squall, obnoxiously smug yet oddly cute, like a kitten after catching a bug and leaving it on your pillow as a present. Any other time and Squall would have been endeared.

"You cannot be in here right now." Squall said, a little more desperately than he'd intended. Good job remaining calm in the face of a crisis, Leonhart.

"It kind of looks like I already am," Seifer drawled.

"This is not happening." Squall said. "Tell me this isn't happening."

"We should fuck on your boss's desk." Seifer said.

Squall buried his face in his hands. Sometimes, having a 17-year-old boyfriend was fun and exciting. Seifer was always up for a new adventure, and being dragged along – though Squall complained about it – was exactly what Squall needed to break him out of his mundane, depressing life as the secretary to the CEO of a multimillion dollar corporation. Seifer made him feel truly alive for the first time in quite a while.

Other times, it was hell. Like when Seifer decided to break into his boss's office on nothing more than a whim, knowing damn well it could cost him his job if he got caught.

"Please tell me I'm hallucinating this," Squall said faintly.

"This is the kind of stuff you hallucinate?" Seifer asked. "You're kinkier than I give you credit for. Maybe there's hope for you yet."

Squall picked up his head from his hands to glare at the young blonde, who grinned back. "We are not fucking on my boss's desk. Now, if I concede that you are far stealthier than I would like to admit, will you leave?" He asked.

"Nah," Seifer said, propping his boots up on Cid's desk. "Mama always said not to give in to compromise. It's fucking or nothing."

"You are actually insane." Squall said, a bit amazed. "I should have you committed to an institution."

Seifer picked up Cid's stapler and began messing around with it. He stapled a post-it note to his shirtsleeve. "You got yourself into this when you wouldn't let me move in with you," Seifer said distractedly, eyeing a stack of paperwork in a manner that Squall wasn't particularly comfortable with.

"What is this, some sort of twisted revenge?" Squall asked, though the answer seemed pretty damn obvious. Seifer was like a devious, brilliant child. If he didn't get his way, he made Squall regret it, no matter how logical Squall's rationale had been.

Seifer only smiled.

"You know your mother would never let you move in with me," Squall finally said. It wasn't his first – or even his fourth – time saying it.

And, just like the other four times, Seifer would have none of it. "Maybe she'd be okay with it if you would ever fucking meet her," he said mildly, shutting one eye for perspective's sake as he stapled the hem of his shirt to his belt.

"What the hell are you doing?" Squall asked. "And Chrissake, you're not even legal."

"You're only 25, it's not like you're some old perv," Seifer said. He began a chain of staples up his sleeve.

"I don't think your mother would see it that way," Squall said.

"I think you're not giving her a chance," Seifer said. He set the stapler down and spread his arms out welcomingly. "Regardless, we should fuck."

"We are not fucking on my boss's desk," Squall said. It was baffling that he'd needed to say that more than once.

"You are so lame," Seifer said, spinning around in the chair.

Squall sighed. "This is why I don't date teenagers," he muttered.

Seifer stopped spinning just long enough to shoot him a quizzical stare. "Because they break into your boss's office and ask you to fuck them?" He asked.

"I kind of want to stab you right now," Squall said.

Seifer laughed. "As long as you do it with your penis, I dig," he said.

Even though he wasn't about to fuck Seifer on Cid's desk, the phrasing made Squall pause. "Really?" He asked. Seifer had never consented to bottoming before. He was obsessed with being top, just because he had some weird pride issues that seriously needed examining by a trained professional.

Seifer's eyes went hot and predatory. "If you say you'll do me right here, I'll let you tie me up and fuck the sense out of me," he said in a low tone.

Squall fought back a shiver. "Will you please leave?" He asked, pained. "This is not something I was taught how to handle in the employee training."

"Last chance," Seifer purred. "Going once… twice…"

Squall opened his mouth to say something (he wasn't totally sure what) when the door opened. His heart was suddenly in his stomach. It was not the most comfortable feeling.

He swallowed hard and forced himself to turn around. Cid Kramer walked through the door, lips clamped around the unlit cigarette in his mouth that Squall had learned not to ask him about.

Squall swallowed again. "Mr. Kramer," he started to say, "I –"

"Oh, Squall," Cid said, surprised to find him in there. Oddly, he didn't seem at all upset that there was a random blond teenager in his desk chair. This, and many other things, was explained when he said, "I didn't know you knew my son."

Seifer made a noise that Squall took a moment to realize was stifled laughter.

Squall told himself that bloody murder of his boss's progeny would not be a good idea in a purely professional sense, and said evenly, "Your son?"

"Yes, Edea convinced me to adopt the fucktard after he was almost sent to juvie for setting fire to her rosebushes," Cid said, rolling his eyes affectionately at the smugly grinning Seifer. Squall had to link his hands together behind his back to keep from socking the smirk off his pretty face. "Biggest mistake of my goddamn life."

_I will kill you, _Squall communicated with his eyes to Seifer, who had to audacity to look innocently at him, blue eyes big and bright.

"Did you staple your shirt to your pants?" Cid asked Seifer.

Seifer huffed. "I was bored, Jesus fuck. What kind of asshole tells someone to come at two_ – don't be late, Seifer, or I'll tell your mother what you really think of her pot roast –_ and then doesn't even fucking show up on time? Dickwad."

"Language," Cid lectured with a smirk that had Squall wondering if Seifer weren't actually his biological son. No one could look that similar and not be blood related.

"Fucktard? Really?" Seifer shot back.

Cid didn't bother answering. "Oh, Squall, have you figured out when I'm meeting with that neurotic wench yet?" He asked.

Behind his back, Seifer pantomimed a crude gesture.

"Not yet, but I'll have the time to you within the next five minutes," Squall told him.

"Excellent," Cid said, looking at a slip of paperwork on his desk.

After making sure Cid couldn't see him in his peripheral vision, Squall pointed out Seifer and crossed his hands at the wrist to mime being handcuffed. Then he pointed at himself and pantomimed a crude gesture right back.

Seifer tensed up in his seat, and Squall was both gratified and surprised to see a light blush rising on his cheeks.

Squall smirked as he left Cid's office. Seifer was a devious, clever kid but the fact remained that he was only 17 and didn't have the years of experience in being mischievous hellspawn that Squall did.

In other words, bitch was going to get what was coming to him.


End file.
